Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
“Willow, wake up,” I say louder. This time her eyes open. It takes her a second, but once she realizes she isn’t dreaming, her body pops up and she looks around.
“Let’s go,” I tell her before she can even think of an excuse or a lie to feed me.
She considers arguing, I can see it in her eyes, but she must realize I’m not playing around, because she lets out a deep sigh, shoves her blanket into her duffle bag, and then stands.
CHAPTER FOUR
WILLOW
While we walk to the subway station, Jax doesn’t say a word, and I greatly appreciate it. I’ve already made enough of an ass of myself for one night. When we get on the subway, he continues with his silent treatment, but the longer he doesn’t talk, the more I just want to get the conversation over with. Like ripping the band-aid off. Why prolong it? We get off in Cobble Hill and walk a couple blocks through a small suburbia neighborhood lined with cute brick townhouses.
When we arrive at his place, he unlocks the door and holds it open for me to walk through first. It’s fall in New York, so the temperatures tend to fluctuate. This week has been on the cooler side, but when I step into Jax’s house, it’s nice and warm. I take a look around and find the place to be neat and tidy. The furniture is nice, nothing fancy, but it’s all good quality.
“The bedrooms and bathrooms are upstairs,” he says, walking toward the stairs. I follow him up and he stops at the first door. “This is the guest bedroom and it has its own bathroom. It’s stocked with toiletries and towels are under the sink.”
He steps back to walk away, but I stop him. “Don’t you want to talk about it?” After thinking about it, I’m going with ripping the band-aid off.
“About what? The fact that I almost fucked my employee in the bathroom of a club? My employee who is over ten years younger than me.” His eyes shoot to the ceiling like he’s praying to God to help him before he looks back down at me. “Or the fact that you’ve been living on the streets for God knows how long and haven’t said a word to any of us?”
“All of the above.” I shrug, unsure what to say.
“I’m tired, still half-buzzed, and it’s late…” He glances at his cell phone. “Or I guess early since it’s almost four in the morning. We have to be at the shop in a few hours, so how about we shower, get some sleep, and we can talk in the morning.”
“Okay.” I give him a half-smile, hoping to knock his evident frustration down a few notches. “I’ll see you in the morning—er, in a few hours.”
Closing the door behind me, I strip out of my clothes and head straight for the shower. It’s been a few months since I’ve had a shower that’s not in a women’s shelter, and I find myself relaxing under the hot spray until the water goes cold. Hopefully Jax already finished his shower. I grab a fluffy towel and dry off, then grab my pajamas to change into.
Since I have a couple hours before we leave, I wonder if Jax would mind if I do a load of laundry. I can do it at the laundry mat, but they’re freaking gross. Tiptoeing over to the room I saw him go into, I knock lightly in case he’s already asleep. If he is, I’ll just find the washer and dryer and do a load before he wakes up. I doubt he’ll even notice.
“Come in,” he calls out. My hand grasps the knob to open the door when he pulls the door at the same time. My body stumbles forward, and just before I think I’m going to faceplant, Jax catches me in his strong arms.
“Jesus, you okay?” He chuckles, the sound reverberating through my body and going straight to the apex of my thighs.
“Yeah.” I laugh softly. “I didn’t realize you were opening the door.”
“Everything okay?” He looks me up and down.
“Yeah, I was just wondering if you would mind if I used your washer and dryer to do a load. I’ll have it done before we leave in the morning.”
Jax’s jaw ticks and I worry I’ve overstepped. He’s already been kind enough to offer me a bed and a shower. “You know what… never mind…” I turn to leave when he grabs my wrist, twirling me back around.
“Are you homeless?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“For about a year now.”
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
“You’re my employer. It’s not your problem.”
“I’m also your friend.” His eyes bore into mine.
“Not really,” I say honestly. I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. “I mean you’re nice and I love working for you, but we aren’t friends.”